Camille sat perched on a desk, pointlessly laughing at a joke Michelle had just told. Her chrome, glittering pink nails gripped the edge as He entered.
Laughing with his friends, that stubborn, untamable Prussian and the other, Danish boy who was always trying to woo her friend Natalia.
Deep in her heart, she wished for Him to do the same for her.
To sweep her off her feet and take them out of class, past her older brother Francis just so she could see the surprise on his face as they ran out the door.
Wanting to feel his soft lips pressed against hers, as they made out behind the wooden, creaky bleachers as the teachers frantically searched for them, no doubt with detention slips in hand.
But then in detention, they would hold hands under the table, and slip notes to each other when the teacher wasn't looking, to absorbed in whatever stupid novel he was reading. Maybe they could even steal a kiss or two.
She sighed, adjusting her glasses as the bell rang and Michelle dashed to her seat, along with a plethora of other students that had been up and about before then. She couldn't see him from where she sat, but at least they shared the same class.
One thing was very clear in Camille's mind, though. Something she had been dreaming about that was now going to burst into reality in a glittering array of sparkles and dissolve into the night sky just like a firework over a Monacan casino.
Alfred F. Jones would be her boyfriend.